Facets
by Kilrez
Summary: When you take a good look at something that's been under your nose for 3 long years, all sorts of shocking revelations are bound to hit.


**Facets**

AN: Yup, it's been a while. I stopped posting even though I didn't stop writing. This one is to overcome my new found post-a-phobia. Please don't hurt me.**  
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* * *

'You know, they say every person has a different personality depending on who they're talking to.'

Wilson's vaguely philosophical statement earned a piercing look from House. Wilson wasn't looking at House though. He was concentrating on a figure on the other side of House's glass walls; one that was himself thoughtfully chewing on a writing implement. House's expression became likewise contemplative as he followed Wilson's gaze.

'That's a lot of personalities,' replied House, finally. His tone was appropriately awed- mockingly falling into a stereotypical response to such grand posturing.

That made Wilson smile slightly and glance back at House, one eyebrow marginally cocked. He was good at this game. He knew not to ridiculously over-extend himself in starting a debate like this without good reason. '_They_ tend to be a bit too ready to make such gross generalizations. But I'd say there's some truth to it, at least.'

Curious now, because Wilson was actually making a point, rather than just talking idly, House settled on replying with: 'Oh yes?'

'Yes,' affirmed Wilson. He was smiling again as he resumed staring at Chase through the window.

House let out a long-suffering sigh. 'Somewhere at the bottom of all this, I catch the faint scent of gossip just begging to be shared. Are you really going to make me go through an entire 3 act play to get to it?'

'You've got no patients,' pointed out Wilson helpfully, causing House to roll his eyes. Despite House's reaction, it was a scoring point, and he internally acknowledged the skill of a verbal exchange well played.

'Very well then,' sighed House, as though it caused him great pain. 'Tell me, Dr. Wilson, what would lead you to believe in 'some truth' within the gross generalizations?'

Wilson's smile, although innocent, somehow also concealed smug undertones. He'd forced House to play ball. 'How much time have you spent watching Chase?'

House paused at that, screwing up his face to think about it. 'Hmmnyaah… every hour of every day, Jimmy. I just can't stop thinking about him.'

The oncologist laughed at House's decidedly feminine and high-pitched tone. 'I mean it,' he countered. 'I know you make a pastime out of torturing them, and occasionally even revealing their deepest darkest secrets, but you do seem to do it all on about 3 split second observations.'

'Ah, that's just a master of the art making it look easy,' House assured him with false gravity. Wilson looked dubious.

'In that case, you might have noticed that Chase is only a cowardly traitor when it suits him. To the front-desk nurses, he's quiet, shy, and always in a hurry. Good work ethic, you know? To Foreman, he's a thorn in the side that should be ignored whenever possible. To Cuddy, he doesn't even exist until he screws up. He's literally so unremarkable that she will look straight past him when he's in the room.'

House was narrowing his eyes now as Wilson talked. 'You've obviously put a lot of thought into this,' he pointed out dryly. 'Still… you wouldn't have done that without something to set it off. Because as you so deftly point out, Wombat-boy is a master of disguise.' His tone on the final statement shifted from the thoughtfully analytical to the amusedly mocking.

Wilson rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair. 'You don't agree? How is it, then, that Chase, who is apparently colour _and _pattern blind when it comes to matching shirts with ties, is reputed to have had a relationship with every single female doctor in this hospital saving Jones on the third floor, Cuddy, and Pascall in obstetrics?'

House raised both eyebrows admiringly. 'Even with the inclination of a good rumour towards exaggeration…' He gave a low whistle. Wilson nodded.

'You see? Not what he seems.'

'The hair does give him an uneven advantage. And to be fair, most of the female doctors in this hospital are easy.'

'Should've known you wouldn't be persuaded so easily.'

'You know me well, young Jedi,' replied House with his best imitation of wise and all-knowing. Wilson was still smirking slightly though, making House frown. 'That's not all though,' said House, with narrowed eyes. 'You think you've got something else to reveal. Something that's going to stun me.'

'Well then, if you know so much, there isn't any point in me sharing. You'll obviously be able to figure it out yourself.'

'Oh don't go all martyr on me just because your dramatic revelation isn't that impressive.'

'You don't think so? I was pretty impressed. They say he got to McKinley, and that woman's like ice.'

House wrinkled his nose, still not moved. 'Yeah, but she had an affair with a Scotsman a few years ago. She likes accents.'

Wilson tilted his head, acknowledging this.

'So, Dr. Wilson. Care to share with the class what your next big trick's going to be?' House was raising his eyebrows, and Wilson could tell he was genuinely curious this time. It was time to make a few points clear.

'Now, stop me here if I'm getting it wrong, but the few of your little whiteboard sessions I've sat in on, Chase doesn't tend to get the right answer very often. Not unless he's backing something someone else has already said.'

'He doesn't trust his own judgment,' said House, frowning. He wasn't sure what Wilson was getting at yet.

'See, you'd think that,' stated Wilson boldly. 'But no. That little girl. The one with the light allergy. He was sitting back, playing it cool with his usual 'whatever Foreman says' routine. As soon as he realised you were actually going to start lopping limbs off…' Wilson clicked his fingers. 'Hey presto, answer.'

House was unimpressed. 'That was once. And it's not like he never comes up with the right answers. He got lucky.'

'No, he doesn't ever come up with the right answers. Until you start getting really stuck. Then he says something that's just the right amount of unhelpful.'

The look on his friend's face was truly disbelieving now. House thought he was pushing a theory farther that it merited just to get the attention. Wilson pushed on nonetheless. He knew he was right. 'If you don't want to credit that, then what about all the other situations. Not diagnostics, but still some eerie perception. He was the first one to know that Cameron had a crush on you. He worked out it was you that cancelled Foreman's job interview. Even you admitted that he was the only one to give useful advice whilst you were dealing with that rape case…'

Wilson stopped, one eyebrow raised, waiting for an acknowledgement. House's face had closed over though, his thoughts clearly a long way away. The light banter of the earlier conversation had led to one of those thunderbolts of realisation that so frequently seemed to aim for House. In his more darkly amused moments, Wilson wondered if perhaps that was why House kept him around.

Smiling faintly, Wilson merely said 'think about it,' and removed himself. Once House got thinking about something like that, he became a lousy conversationalist. It was best to just leave him to it.

* * *

'You're fired.' 

The words still hung in the air, minutes after the Australian had left the room. House was doing nothing at all. He was merely passively listening to their echo, faint trails rippling through the air.

He hadn't wanted to fire Chase. That shocking realisation on its own was enough of a motivation. That was merely secondary however. The impetus to fire Chase had arisen from the dawning understanding that Chase had long since become proficient enough to strike out on his own. And more than that. He was proficient enough to hide it too. Hide it from House. That… that was impressive.

The simple fact was; fellows stayed with him long enough to gain the knack of his method of diagnosis. Some never did, and those he disposed of. The rest were only ever going to be as good as their personal limitations allowed.

Cameron, for instance, House had his doubts about. It was true that she'd learnt a lot, but she'd started from a lot farther back than say, Foreman. At least now the complete trusting naiveté was gone. Chase though…

When he'd started tracing back Chase's progress, a realisation had come to him that he just couldn't believe he hadn't seen before. He'd never really shown any marked leaps of improvement. No steady progress, no great personal barriers overcome… Sure, now and again he had brilliant intuitive moments, but then they were gone like they had never been. Chase had been carefully hiding his deep, innate understanding of all the little intricacies of human nature.

House would have been proud of him; save that he was sure that it wasn't him that had lent it to Chase. Who knew where the boy had got it from? House was a little curious, but he didn't care enough to keep him around to find out.

Nope. When they were good enough, it was time to push them out of the nest to fly on their own. Chase was just the teenage child that never left home. He wasn't firing him out of malice. And the best bit was, he knew Chase would understand this. Eventually.

The End


End file.
